by Dave Daren
“Harmony?” he asked, quite confused.
“It’s not Harmony!” I reiterated.
“Well, if it’s not,” he humored me, “I can’t look for someone when I don’t know who I’m looking for.”
“Well,” I sighed, “thank you for your help, Bloodhound Bill.”
“Wait!” he caught me trying to stand. “Name anyone! I can find them! I’ll prove it to ya!”
“I appreciate that, Bill, and maybe I can maybe make a few calls once this case is wrapped up, but there’s a lot on my plate right now,” I conceded.
“Well, let me know if I can be of service!” Bill perked up. I nodded to him, and AJ and I stood up to walk over to Justin.
AJ and I approached this Justin guy at his card table. Compared to all the other wacky characters scattered throughout Sedona, it wasn’t easy for this guy to blend in to the crowd. He didn’t seem to fall too far down either end of the cowboy versus hippie spectrum that much of the rest of the town exhibited. He was dressed like a normal person and as a result he stood out primarily because he didn’t stand out.
“Hey, there,” I greeted him when I was within earshot. “Justin, right?”
He looked up at me with nervous grey eyes.
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?” I asked.
“Technically it was a staycation,” he replied quickly without asking how I knew that.
“We heard you were the forensic analyst for the Sedona police on Harmony Irving’s case,” AJ said.
“AJ…” I tried to quiet her subtly. I didn’t want us to come on too strong with this guy.
“You her lawyer?” he asked.
“Well, not exactly,” I admitted.
“I can’t talk to some strangers about a case still in progress, and even if I could this isn’t the place for an interview,” he said. “Police have released some info to the public about it if you want to look it up.”
“We understand that,” I nodded. “The biggest thing I’m curious about is your analysis of the substance found on Harmony Irving’s clothing.”
“Oh, yeah, the dead art critic’s blood,” Justin said. “If that wasn’t a closed case before, it is now.”
“But, are you… like… sure?” AJ attempted to fish out more from him.
“Um, yes?” Justin responded blankly. “That’s my job. Plus, blood is blood. Not like there was much confusion there.”
“Is there any way that the samples could have been switched?” I asked him. “Maybe even tampered with?”
“It’s not like we transport evidence in a rusty tin can, the crime scene guys and the detective maintain a strict chain of custody of the evidence," Justin said. “It would be next to impossible to switch the samples, or even access them before they reached my lab.”
“Well, that… sucks,” AJ pondered eloquently.
“Why does that suck?” Justin frowned.
“Just ignore her,” I patted AJ on the shoulder. “She’s just thinking out loud.”
“She looks kind of young to be in a bar.”
AJ’s jaw tightened.
“Oh, thank you for the compliment, I’m 32 but everyone says I look young for my age,” she chuckled nervously.
“Thanks for your help, Justin,” I said. “If I have any more questions, I’ll give you a call. For now, I’ll escort this young lady out,” I offered as I quickly steered her away from Justin.
“Who are you again?” he asked after us, but I didn’t feel like answering, and we were already almost out the door.
“I am so not cut out for breaking a single rule ever in my life,” AJ reflected as I pulled her along, and we pushed out of the saloon doors and into the parking lot.
“I’ve noticed,” I said with a smirk.
Back outside the saloon, the fight had died down into men cracking their bones and stretching out their sore muscles. Horace, one of the two guys who’d originally been in the fight and toppled out the doors and landed uncomfortably close to me, fixed me with a look I couldn’t really discern from beneath his thick eyebrows. If I had to pinpoint the meanest looking guy here, in this den of mean-looking guys, he would certainly take the top spot. He sauntered up to me with a wide, lumbering gait.
“You’re the Irving’s boy,” he barked at me. It wasn’t really a question.
“You almost punched me in the face,” I retorted. The man did look a bit familiar to me, but that could have meant that I saw him around town growing up.
“Oh, that was good, clean fun,” he dismissed, but his tone did not imply goodness or cleanliness or fun. “Just roughhousing.”
“Okay, I’ll see you around, then,” I waved to him.
“No, wait!” he called out to me. “My name’s Horace. I run a theater.”
“You what?” AJ blurted.
Horace had absolutely no theatrical quality to him. He’d have to deliver lines from behind six pounds of mustache.
“That’s very interesting, Horace,” I managed to say.
“Thank you, creative endeavors are my passion,” he replied with a surprising lack of irony. “I know your folks. You were their disappointing kid who was supposed to go to Julliard.”
“You got into Julliard?” AJ looked up at me, impressed.
“That was a long time ago,” I ignored her.
“Yeah, but when you got chops, you got chops,” he said. “I wrote this play that I’m supposed to put on in a few days. I can send you the script. You’ve got a lead actor face, and since you got the skills, you should be in it.”
“Lead actor face?” I frowned.
“Handsome, fit, white guy with a square jawline,” AJ translated for me, though I knew exactly what he meant. “And it pains the social justice warrior in me to say that.”
“You should come by the theater sometime,” Horace pressed.
“I don’t really do the acting thing anymore,” I told him. “You’ll have to find someone else.”
“You saying no to me?” he scowled. I got the idea that people denying him what he wanted was not something that happened very often.
“Yes, but politely,” I told him.
I brushed past him and guided AJ with me into the parking lot before he could protest further.
“Well, if you change your mind, you can find me at the theater!” he called out.
“Okay,” I said as we ambled back to the Volkswagen Eyesore.
“Cool car,” AJ said with utmost sincerity for some reason.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
As I unlocked the driver’s seat, I saw Justin trudge out of the saloon. He walked up to a tan, unassuming compact car that was as nondescript as he was. He didn’t look up to say goodbye to anyone before he climbed in.
Justin started up his car as I watched. One of his answers to my questions intrigued me. He expressed that it would be difficult to replace or tamper with the evidence before it got to him, and I sensed that he was being truthful about that.
It meant it that if anyone did mess with the samples, it was him.
Chapter 7
Vicki and I each picked up a rental car the next morning, a simple black Ford Fusion suitable for getting from point A to point B for me, and a red Chevy Malibu for her. Then we convoyed to the gallery to meet with AJ promptly at nine in the morning.
AJ was waiting outside the gallery when we arrived. I unlocked the door again and let us all spill inside. There wasn’t exactly a desk in the gallery, but there was a large cutting board for slicing huge pieces into smaller pieces, so we gathered around it to discuss our options.
“Okay, here’s where we are,” I began. “I’ve got to go interview Harmony and meet with Toby before the arraignment. Toby wants to do as little as possible, so Vicki, can you prepare discovery requests for all the things we talked about last night? Hopefully, he can be bothered just to sign off on them.”
“You got it,” Vicki nodded cheerfully.
“AJ,” I said as I turned to
her, “can you run a background check on Justin Pell, the forensic analyst, and Harmony’s new boyfriend?”
“I, uh, don’t know how to do that.” AJ blinked.
“It’s easy,” Vicki told her as she fished her laptop out of her bag. “I’ll send you the link.”
“Okay, that’s fine,” AJ accepted, “but shouldn’t Harmony’s current lawyer do all this?”
“Absolutely,” I agreed, “but we have a difference of opinion on how the case should be handled, and if we don’t do it, it won’t get done.”
“Understood,” AJ said as she nodded her head.
“Alright,” I said, “everyone’s got their tasks. We can reconvene after the arraignment.”
“Well, we sound super official, don’t we?” Vicki observed. “And I’m still stuck doing all the paperwork.”
“And I appreciate it,” I told her.
I got into my new rental car and headed for the Coconino County courthouse. It was located in Flagstaff, so my drive took me through the orange Sedona desert and into the pine tree forests that surrounded the much larger city.
Flagstaff’s courthouse was crafted with softly colored red bricks. It somehow managed to straddle the line between looking dated and elegant at once, and the green gardens and pine trees helped set a peaceful mood.
I met with Toby outside the courthouse before the second arraignment He had been reluctant to meet with me, or really to do anything outside his most minimal job description.
“Your family is already inside,” he said as soon as he saw me, and then I saw Harmony walk out of the front doors. I gave her a hug, and then we both turned to her lawyer.
“So there’s good news,” Toby clapped his hands together enthusiastically.
“Good,” Harmony said doubtfully, “there’s been kind of a shortage.”
“If Harmony pleads guilty to manslaughter, we can get her sentence reduced to ten years with the possibility of parole,” he revealed.
“Damn it, Toby,” I sighed.
“What? I did a good job,” he whined.
“That’s not acceptable,” I shot him down immediately.
“Why not?” his face fell.
“I don’t want to spend ten years in prison,” Harmony replied.
“It’s better than twenty-five to life,” Toby retorted.
“Reject the plea deal,” I told him.
“Are you insane?”
“Harmony didn’t do it,” I explained. “I’ve got a paralegal and an investigator working on discovery requests to find evidence that will show it.”
“Which will mean nothing when put up against the evidence that shows she did do it,” Toby argued. “I’m not about to prepare a flimsy defense for an unwinnable case against my professional recommendation.”
“Well, my professional recommendation is--”
“You’re not her lawyer!” Toby cut me off.
“Noted,” I allowed as I clenched my jaw.
“Miss Irving,” Toby began as he turned his full attention to my sister, “I know your brother wants to make you believe you can beat the system, or whatever, but any first year law student could tell you that you cannot win this. You can only lessen the damage, and if your brother was looking at it objectively he would agree, too. Take the plea deal, we were lucky for them to even offer it.”
Harmony winced, and I cut in before her resolve could falter any further.
“Harmony,” I turned her away from Toby, “I know things seem dicey right now, but I know you’re innocent. Believe in me like I believe in you if only for the next hour so you can plead not guilty, and let me do the rest.”
Harmony looked back and forth between Toby and I for a long time.
“I…I…” she stammered. “I need a second.”
Harmony broke away from us and rounded the corner of the courthouse to gather her thoughts.
“This isn’t the time to be naïve and optimistic,” Toby grumbled at me. “If she rejects this deal, she may never walk as a free woman again.”
“I hardly think hoping that the justice system prevails is optimistic,” I retorted.
“That’s not what I was--”
“Am I walking into a tense situation?” a new voice chimed in. “I hate when that happens.”
We turned as Vicki approached us with a stack of papers in her hand.
“Who is this?” Toby frowned at the new arrival.
“She’s my paralegal,” I replied.
“I prefer ‘valued colleague’,” she amended as she shoved the stack of papers to Toby. “Can you sign off on these discovery requests? It requires minimal effort on your part.”
“Henry, your paralegal is antagonizing,” Toby complained.
“I think she’s charming,” I defended.
Toby scanned the papers Vicki handed to him. It was definitely too much to hope that he would suddenly come around when faced with our work ethic.
“You want to just review the evidence that already makes her look guilty?” Toby frowned.
“We didn’t really want your opinion on it,” Vicki laughed. “We just wanted you to sign off on that. Please.”
“Why don’t we see how she wants to plead first?” Toby suggested.
“Well, we’re going with the defense that implies she didn’t do it, right?” Vicki said.
“That’s Henry’s idea, yes,” Toby scowled.
“Huh,” Vicki feigned deep thoughtfulness. “Henry, since I’m not a lawyer I may not have all the terminology down, but is there a technical term for the opposite of pleading guilty?”
“I’m pleading not guilty,” Harmony’s voice returned to the conversation, and the three of us turned back to her.
“That’s against every professional opinion I have,” Toby warned.
“Yeah, I know, and I fully grasp that,” she assured him, “but I trust my brother, and I’d really appreciate it if you work with him.”
“Have it your way,” Toby huffed. “Let’s head inside.” And with that, we all walked in together.
The courtroom was simple in appearance. Rows of wooden benches crowded together behind the plaintiff and defendant with my family taking up the seats at the back. Harmony took her seat at the defendant desk beside Toby, but neither of them looked at each other. I sat down directly behind them, and Vicki took a seat beside me.
“Thanks for doing the paperwork I’m sure you hated,” I muttered to Vicki.
“Story of my life,” she replied.
“All rise!” the bailiff announced. “The honorable Judge Mallory Rose presiding.”
I noticed Harmony shaking as everyone stood up, and I wished for the millionth time that it was me beside her and not someone eager to have her thrown in prison and be done with it. Vicki remained standing next to me rather than leaving when her job was done, which I was grateful for.
The judge who approached the podium was a severe-looking woman in her forties who most people would probably never dare make a joke around. Her no-nonsense haircut cropped her black hair close to her head, and the glare she wore seemed like a permanent fixture of her face.
“Hello,” she greeted the room with very little warmth. “In the matter of People of the State of Arizona vs. Harmony Irving. Counsel, please state your appearances.”
The prosecutor introduced himself as Chet Levison. He was a stately and charismatic sort of man with a receding hairline that he was too dignified to try to hide. His suit looked a little dated, but then again, this was Flagstaff and not Los Angeles, and fashion in the USA tended to trickle inland from the coasts.
When Judge Rose asked the defense to introduce themselves, I nearly opened my mouth to speak from instinct. I shut my mouth promptly as Toby introduced himself instead on Harmony’s behalf.
“Prosecution, if you will, please state the charges against Harmony Irving,” Judge Rose requested.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Chet flashed her a charming smile. “The defendant is accused of murder in this first degree.”
It wasn’t Chet’s fault that Harmony was accused of that, but I felt a simmering resentment growing against him, anyway. Of course it would be a first-degree charge. If Harmony had been heard joking that she was totally going to kill the critic, there would be every opportunity to suspect that the act was premeditated and malicious. I had hoped they would seek a second degree charge, but this was a sign of how confident they were in their case. On the other hand, the plea deal they offered was for Manslaughter, which they wouldn’t have offered if they felt the first degree charge was airtight.
But there was no crime at all, at least not on Harmony’s part, and I was going to make them regret seeking first degree murder.
Judge Rose asked Harmony if she understood the charges against her, and she said yes.
“Before we enter the plea, do you have any questions about what we are doing here today?” Judge Rose directed at Harmony.
Harmony didn’t answer for a moment. Of course she was confused about everything happening to her, but she probably couldn’t even imagine what she would ask.
“No, Your Honor,” she decided to say, and her voice came out in a painful squeak.
“Mr. Lythgoe,” Judge Rose shifted her gaze to Toby, “have you had sufficient time to discuss the case with your client? Do you feel confident that she has had sufficient time to grasp her rights and the consequences of her plea?”
I noted Toby’s hesitations. In his opinion, Harmony and I truly didn’t grasp the simplest of concepts regarding how this whole process should work. Thankfully, I knew Toby would rather get this out of the way rather than spend more time arguing with me.
“Yes, Your Honor,” he finally answered.
“Ms. Harmony Irving, are you prepared to enter your plea?” Judge Rose prompted.
I couldn’t see Harmony’s face from where I sat, but I saw the complete tense stillness in her body. Entering her plea was the point of no return, the burning of the boats. Sure, she might be able to take another plea deal in the middle of the trial, but it wouldn’t be as good as the one the District Attorney was currently offering. When she finally spoke, even from directly behind her, I could barely hear her.
